


denuo.

by orphxus (impxria)



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impxria/pseuds/orphxus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">this is not him.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	denuo.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [inspired by](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VEpMj-tqixs)

  


shadows settle on the place that you left.  
our minds are troubled by the emptiness.

* * *

“Excuse me--”

It takes everything for the tears to be held back. The familiar hot sting burns your eyes, bewilderment clear on your countenance. The voice and the scent--

It’s him, isn’t it?

no, he’s gone--

“Are you okay?” He asks, body leaning slightly over the counter to examine your pale features. His eyes still hold that gentleness-- just like Kaneki.

But you can’t speak; you can’t think. Because you left those memories behind. You left your friends behind-- tried to find a new life for yourself-- a life that would allow you to start anew. You tried to get rid of those scars left on your heart-- and the pain dulled.

It dulled, but it never faded.

And it feels like the closed wounds are opening again-- all because of him.

most of us are bitter over someone.  
setting fire to our insides for fun,  
to distract our hearts from ever missing them.  
but i'm forever missing _him_.

His concern grows at your silence, and all you can do is look at him with distress. His hand waves in front of your face in an awkward manner, pondering on whether you’ve heard anything he’s said.

“Ah,” you choke on the words that are so close to spilling from parted lips, though they remain lodged in your throat, “I’m just having a bad day.” Your voice is thick and heavy with forced happiness, a smile accompanying the explanation. “I’m sorry about that-- what was your name, again?”

He knows to keep to himself. He doesn't know you; it isn’t his job to pry. Instead, he only gives a sheepish grin before dismissing your apology with ease. Body no longer leaning over the counter that separates you, he repeats himself.

“Sasaki Haise.”

~~k a n e k i k e n.~~

Fingers tighten their grip on the pen, knuckles almost turning white as you quickly write the other’s name on the cup. Your mind is still in shambles, but you force yourself to remain professional. The investigator studies you with interest, eyes scanning your features for any sign of familiarity-- but you never notice, concentration solely on the register as you put in the order.

“Oops,” he cuts in, “do you mind if I order another drink? I forgot to get something for a coworker.” His voice remains cheerful, hand touching his chin as eyes skim over the menu. “I don’t know what they would want-- do you have any favorites?”

The simple gesture captures your attention, bitterness swallowing you whole. However, lips curl upwards as you nod, a finger pointing to a preferred drink on the menu. It takes him only a second before he listens to your recommendation, adding it onto the order.

“I’ll have these ready soon, alright?”

It becomes harder to breathe when he nods happily at you.

“Alright.”

**.     .     .**

Shaky hands struggle to make the drinks as you occasionally peek over at the customer, the combination of black and white locks puzzling you.

He’s reading.

It hardly seems to be anything significant, but the action helps set your heart at ease. A genuine smile crosses your lips, though you stare down at the counter in order to hide it. Grabbing the cups, you set them on the bar before hesitation strikes. Rereading the name over and over again, a soft exhale comes out before you speak.

“Sasaki Haise?”

The peaceful look that adorns his face remains as he puts away the book with caution. Approaching the bar, his hand grazes yours as he takes the drinks from you--

only to give one right back.

He laughs at your confusion, gently pushing the cup into your hand.

“You suggested this, right? So you must like it.” He explains, scratching the back of his head as he shoots you a cheeky grin. “I hope your day gets better.”

Words fail to come before you slowly accept the drink, his kindness overwhelming you.

“Thank you, Kan-- Sasaki.”

The complacent countenance he holds falters, dissolving into one of sorrow and confusion-- as if the mistake holds importance for him. But the happiness comes back almost immediately, though it doesn’t show as strongly. There’s an emptiness in his eyes-- an emptiness that cannot be filled.

“You’re welcome.”

And you desperately hope that this is the only time you’ll ever see him. Because it’s not Kaneki-- it’s someone else. Someone that deserves better than to only be remembered as what once was--

He is Sasaki Haise.

And to him, you are only a stranger.

But it's okay-- it's alright. 

As long as he remains happy.

i'm just a silhouette,  
i’m a lifeless face that you'll soon forget.


End file.
